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→I actually met Chris through Genevieve. They’re cousins: their moms are sisters. Chris used to come over sometimes when we were little, but she and Gen didn’t get along even back then. They’d argue over whose Barbie had dibs on Ken, because there was only one Ken. I didn’t even try to fight for Ken, even though he was technically mine. Well, Margot’s. At school some people don’t even know Gen and Chris are cousins. They don’t look alike, like at all: Gen is petite with fit arms and sunny blond hair the color of margarine. Chris is blond too, but peroxide blond, and she’s taller and has broad swimmer’s shoulders. Still, there is a sameness to them.

→“Apparently, she met some UVA guy at that hostessing job she had. I guarantee you she was cheating on Kavinsky the whole summer.” A guy calls Chris’s name, and Chris says, “I gotta go. It’s my turn at bocce.” Chris hangs up without saying good-bye, which is her way.

→My eyes go huge. “Whoa! Why?”

→“Gen and Kavinsky! She dumped his ass.”

→I’ve moved on to a mod pink color that looks like Wite-Out with a drop of red in it. “Who?”

→“Guess who broke up.”

→“Yes, much better.”

→“Hold up.” I can hear Chris moving rooms, because it gets quieter. “Can you hear me now?”

→“What? I can barely hear you!” I’m doing my pinky toe a fruit-punch color called Hit Me with Your Best Shot.

→Chris calls me later that night while I’m painting my toenails different-colored pinks. It’s so loud in the background she has to yell. “Guess what!”

→It’s strange to be the one in the front seat now. The view isn’t so different from the backseat. In fact, everything feels good and normal and the same, which is a comfort.

→There were times I felt left out anyway. Not in a romantic way, but a friend way. Josh and I had always been friends. But those times when he’d put his arm around Margot when we were in line for popcorn, or in the car when they’d talk softly to each other and I felt like the kid in the backseat who can’t hear what the adults are talking about, it made me feel a little bit invisible. They made me wish I had someone to whisper to in the backseat.

→Whenever Josh, Margot, and I went to the movies, Margot always sat in the middle too. It was so she could whisper to both of us. She never wanted me to feel left out because she had a boyfriend and I didn’t. She was so careful about this that it made me worry at first, that she sensed something from before. But she’s not someone to hold back or pretty up the truth. She’s just a really good big sister. The best.

→Kitty’s over the moon about hanging out with Josh. When Josh asks the girl at the concession stand to layer the butter on the popcorn (bottom, middle, top), we both give an approving nod. Kitty sits in the middle of us, and at the funny parts she laughs so hard she kicks her legs up in the air. She weighs so little that the seat keeps tipping up. Josh and I share smiles over her head.

→To his back, I call out, “For your information, it’s Nigel!”

→Chuckling, Josh backs away. “I’ll leave you to Cressida and Noel then.”

→My cheeks are burning. “Oh, be quiet.”

→Josh reaches down and tries to get a closer look at my book. I slap his hand away, but not before he reads out loud, “Cressida’s heart raced as Nigel moved his hand along her stockinged thigh.” Josh cracks up. “What the heck are you reading?”

→“Sure, text me when you want to head over,” I say, turning the page of my book. Nigel is unbuttoning Cressida’s blouse and she’s wondering when the sleeping pill she slipped in his Merlot will kick in, while simultaneously hoping it won’t kick in too soon, because Nigel is actually quite a good kisser.

→“Wanna see a movie tonight at the Bess? There’s a Pixar movie playing. We can take Kitty.”